Up There is a Blue Sky
by Simply Kim
Summary: Story 3A up: Musashi x Hiruma: He was protesting instead, so he knew he wasn't carrying ammo. He laughed inwardly. For the first time since Hakushuu, Musashi was thankful Hiruma couldn’t use his right arm. If it was any other day, he'd be dead by now...!
1. Story 01: There is No God

**TITLE:** Up There is a Blue Sky

**PART:** Story One of Eleven

**AUTHOR:** Simply Kim

**WORD COUNT: **2,735

**CHARACTERS:**Mizumachi Kengo. Kakei Shun. Kobanzame Osamu. Kyoshin Poseidons

**PAIRING/S:**Mizumachi Kakei

**GENRE:** Alternate Universe/Continuation/Angst/Drama/ (A bit of) Humour

**DISCLAIMER/S:** Never knew anything about American Football until recently, so no, I don't own Eyeshield 21. Just this story. ;

**NOTE#1:** **Blah **or _**Blah **_is for emphasis. _**/Blah/**_is for conversations over the phone or flashbacks (if any). _/Blah/_ is for the conscience or whatever inner voice there is talking. _Blah _is for thoughts or random Japanese words.

**BACKGROUND MUSIC: **

1. Buck-Tick – Ijin no Yoru

2. Buck-Tick – Dress

3. Abingdon Boys School – Dress

4. Buck-Tick – Kagerou

5. High and Mighty Color - Amazing

* * *

**UP THERE IS A BLUE SKY**

_**Story One: There is No God**_

* * *

"Then, I'll be leaving the team to you, Kakei-kun…"

It wasn't surprising to many that he was the one chosen to be the next captain of the Kyoshin Poseidons. However, for Kakei, it was one of those surprises he felt most unwelcome. Slowly, he blinked, speechless… trying to make sense of what was being said.

Was this some sort of cruel joke?

He started to open his mouth, but his words were cut off by overly enthusiastic whooping and fanatical cheers of everyone around him. He instantly snapped it close and bleakly nodded, murmuring his thanks.

"_Na_, Kakei!" Mizumachi boisterously called from the other side of the room. "Take care of us, _**ne**_!"

A small smile stole into his lips and he nodded once again, unsure of what to say. He had never been fond of attention, and he wasn't fond of authority either. This was why now, when he was declared promptly by Kobanzame Osamu as his 'heir', he felt like he was suffocating.

He swallowed once and remained quiet as everyone gathered around the retiring club members, wishing them luck on cram school… or in some cases, on applying for elevator-manufacturing companies.

It was no secret that he was the de facto leader of the group, but he wasn't exactly saddled with the responsibility of caring for an entire dysfunctional team so it was okay. Now…

He wanted to ask Kobanzame why he chose him, but he knew for sure that his senpai would just grin, scratch his head sheepishly and tell him it's because of his playing and tactical abilities.

Now, Kakei wasn't a modest person, but he wasn't a hypocrite either. He knew what he could do and he knew what his limitations were on the football field. He knew his way around the game and he knew how to evade manoeuvres by his opponents. However he also knew ability alone wasn't enough to keep a team together.

Kobanzame Osamu might be small and might be a mediocre player, but he had always respected and admired him for his heart – which only few people ever hoped to have. He took care of each of them, as if being their second mother. He visited them when they were sick, he cheered them up when they were down, and he searched high and low for them when they were lost. Kakei knew he wasn't the only one who thought of him as such.

Closing his eyes, he straightened from his usual post by the back and walked as quietly and calmly as he could, heading straight to the door.

He needed to get out, clear his head and get some fresh air.

**OxxxOxxxO**

He couldn't find him anywhere.

After the meeting was adjourned, he had begun looking for him. Ten minutes later, he still came up empty handed.

Groaning, he scratched his head in frustration and started for the elevator once again. Six, five, four… _What's his problem? _He thought worriedly. _He seemed okay a while ago, and then he just upped and disappeared on all of us. He even had Kobanzame-senpai worried! Aah… Kakei, you idiot!_

He racked his brains as to where the new captain of the team could be, now that he hadn't seen even his shadow in each place he knew he enjoyed staying in.

He even visited the library.

He shook his head, cringing. Seriously, that place was a maze, and he almost got lost if not for the image of that little blue book depicting a bright blue sky by the shelf near the door. It served as his marker, and –

Suddenly, his eyes widened, and he hit a closed fist on the palm of his other hand in a gesture of enlightenment. "That's it!" He crowed as the telltale ping of the elevator sounded.

He wasn't the only one who liked the sky after all.

"How could I have been so stupid?!"

**OxxxOxxxO**

He was stupid after all.

Kakei glared at the sky and the sky glared back at him… followed by a sudden flash of lightning and a terrible crack of thunder.

"The world is conspiring against me." He muttered irritably, slipping his hands inside his pockets in an effort to warm them. It was cold outside, and all he could do was huddle in this little corner beside the rooftop door as the rain poured in torrents down on the unsuspecting city.

He hated this kind of sky.

He liked it when the sky was blue, and he could stare at it all day long without getting tired of it. He liked to see clouds rolling by and the sun shining down on him, warming him, cheering him up.

Now, this rain was just doing its best on dampening his already overcast mood.

Worst of it was, he didn't know where to go. He didn't want to go down for fear of hearing someone from the team call him 'captain' when he wasn't even ready to face the responsibility yet.

He leant, depressed, against the cold stone wall and continued glaring at the sky.

He was in the middle of muttering about how stupid he was when a sudden click alerted him, prompting him to straighten up, his muscles cording as tension built…

And the door swung open.

**OxxxOxxxO**

Mizumachi gasped and wailed as he saw how it was on the rooftop. "Ah! It's raining!" He cried out, pressing both hands on his temples as if he was at a loss on what to do. "I didn't bring an umbrella!"

Droplets of rain plopped unceremoniously on his nose and it itched in reply.

He sneezed.

He sighed in relief.

And everything was again alright.

Until he remembered why he was there in the first place.

"Ah! Kakei's not here!" He moaned dramatically. Squatting down, he continued his litany, bemoaning his lost comrade and panting as if he had just experienced the worst battle in his life. "Where the heck is he? If only I can hear his voice telling me where exactly he is –"

Which was true because never in his life had he looked for someone as ardently as he did Kakei.

"I'm right here."

"I'm hearing things…" He groaned.

"I'm right beside you, Mizumachi."

"The rain is playing tricks on me, there's no way Kakei would be here when it's pouring this hard and – OW!" He cried out, rubbing the back of his head where something hard hit… His eyes widened and he immediately turned to his side.

"Ah! There you are!"

**OxxxOxxxO**

Kakei blinked as his eyes focused on the tip of the finger nearly prodding the skin between his eyes.

"Ah! There you are!"

Mizumachi seemed to have spent a lot of time looking for him if all that complaining was any indication. Warmth flooded his insides at the thought that someone _**did**_ look for him, but was quashed when said person jumped him, making him fall flat on his rump.

On the very wet floor.

"Mizumachi! Unhand me!" He grated out when he was able to breathe. The wetness was spreading on his pants, and he knew instantly it was ruined. If he dipped any lower for all the weight pressed onto him like this, he was going to be so drenched that he would undoubtedly have a cold tomorrow.

As gently as he could, so as not to offend the other, he extricated himself from those long, sturdy arms, grateful that Mizumachi seemed to understand his predicament and reared back on his own, a stupid grin on his face.

"I've been looking all over for you!" Came the enthusiastic revelation.

Kakei nodded, giving him a once-over. "I gathered." He allowed, a small smile playing on his lips. "You look tired."

"_**VERY**_ tired." Mizumachi nodded. He stood up immediately and blinked as he noticed that the knees of his pants were wet. "Ah! My pants are ruined!"

"It's a good thing that's your _**only**_ problem." Kakei mumbled, getting up and brushing careful fingers on the seat of his own pants. "My entire backside is wet."

The blonde ex-swimmer gave him a look of pure disbelief. "Well, you were sitting down on a wet floor, what'd you expect?"

Kakei glared at him. "_**You**_ happened. You pounced on me!"

It took a couple of moments for it to sink in before Mizumachi laughed, patting him continuously on the shoulder. "Haha! I did, didn't I? Sorry about that. You can wear my pants if you like. I'm taller just by an inch, so it is okay, isn't it?" Soon, he was removing his belt and unzipping his pants, whistling as if he didn't have a care in the world.

Kakei flushed, glaring at him even more. "Stop taking your pants off! I'm not wearing them!"

"Why not? It's not as if you can go down looking like that!" Mizumachi insisted, now standing wearing swimming shorts and holding out his navy slacks for him to take. Grinning even more, he dropped them on Kakei's head, "There, no return, no exchange – well, until tomorrow, that is!"

Kakei rolled his eyes. And grudgingly accepted them, slinging the pants on one shoulder as he unzipped his own. "Could you turn around, Mizumachi?" He cleared his throat uneasily.

"Why? It's not as if I haven't seen what you've got under your pants before – we shower together with the others after practice, you know!"

"Just… turn around for a while, okay?" He mumbled back, almost pleadingly, to which the other sighed and complied. "Thank you."

As he was slipping his pants off one leg, an unbidden question filtered through his ears and he looked up as if dumb, staring at the centre of Mizumachi's back.

"Why don't you want to be captain?"

The red of his cheeks paled until it vanished completely. Quietly, he let his pants drop on the wet floor and started pulling on Mizumachi's. It was looser than what he anticipated, but Kakei thought it was so fitting for someone who lived such carefree life as he did. Something tugged at his heart and his eyes softened. _Maybe he would be able to understand…_

"What do you think of me, Mizumachi?" He felt a sudden charge in the air, and he took a glance at his companion. His shoulders were stiff, he noticed, but that was most probably due to what he had just asked him. Kakei smiled ruefully as he zipped up his borrowed pants, feeling the sting of cold an inch above both knees. Where the patches of wetness were spreading. "You can turn around now."

As if weighed down by sand bags, Mizumachi turned around, cheerfulness earlier zapped away. There was something unusual in his eyes that he thought must have some ulterior meaning. What it was, he didn't know.

But it was there.

"Why are you like that?"

Surprised, Kakei blinked. "Like that?"

Mizumachi sighed, gesturing with his hands in supplication. "Yes, like that." He started. "You're not so reserved when we're talking about football, and you're pretty confident of your abilities… but why the hell are you running around looking so down when you've finally been named captain?"

There was an earnest quality in his voice as he spoke. It was as if he was struggling to prevent himself from grabbing the other's uniform and shaking him silly.

Staring at Mizumachi's eyes right now, Kakei felt like he was drowning in brilliant pools of clear water. There was no murkiness there, only openness and the ability to make unbiased judgment. _Maybe he could really understand…_

"What do you think of me, Mizumachi?" He asked again, quietly.

"Well," His team mate allowed; a perplexed look still on his face. "You're an amazing football player. You seem to know everything and you have some cool abilities out there on the field – plus, you have lots of experience to back you up. You even played against that Notre Dame Eyeshield person! Those are things you should be proud of!"

Kakei nodded, his eyes softening. He could feel the waistband of his pants chafing loosely against his hips, and his hand involuntarily tugged them up. "That's just it." He said, a small smile on his face as he turned to the grey, pouring sky. "That's why I'm hesitant to be captain."

"Huh?!" He could hear Mizumachi's confusion. "_Na_, Kakei – I don't get it. You're more qualified than any of us and you know it!"

"Well, what do you think of Kobanzame-senpai?" He asked, turning back to him.

"Well, he's a great captain!" The blonde grinned suddenly. Fondly. "He's bright and happy and giving… He's just like a mom, don't you think so?"

"Exactly. He's everything I'm not." Kakei chuckled. "He built a family of the team, and I don't have the ability to keep us all together. I can't be like him."

There was a few moments of silence before Mizumachi moved closer and picked up Kakei's forgotten (and positively sopping from the rain) pants. This was one of those few times Kakei had seen him serious and contemplative…

And then he had to throw the pants at him.

It hit him right smack in the middle of the face and as the fibres scratched on his skin while it slid back down to the ground, Mizumachi had already erupted into boisterous laughter. His hands were clutching his stomach in an effort to stop it from aching too much, probably.

Kakei glared.

"What's so funny?" He asked almost harshly, wiping his now wet face with the sleeve of his uniform. He picked up the fallen pants and hurled it at him in displeasure. "I'm being serious here!"

"Kakei, you're such an idiot!" Mizumachi guffawed. "Eww, wet pants!"

"I'm not." It was one thing to tell himself that and another to hear someone say it to his face. It wasn't pleasant. He glared some more. "And you threw that at me first, so there!"

"Ahahahaha! Sorry, sorry!" Came the nonchalant response. Mizumachi surged forward and engulfed him in a huge hug. The warmth was a direct contrast to the cold that was chilling Kakei to the bone. "Let me tell you something my mom told me, alright?"

"Fine." He muttered, absolutely lacking the energy to fight anymore.

"We can't hate the moon for driving the sun away at night… because no matter how different they are, they still provide guidance to those who need them."

As if on cue, the rain stopped, the downpour reduced to a mere drizzle. Past Mizumachi's broad shoulder, he could see the sky gradually clearing. Patches of blue appeared as the grey cracked open and parted. It felt like some cliché anime series, being immersed in a situation such as theirs. But he wasn't bothered by it one bit. "But they aren't the same." He reasoned quietly.

"Ah, yeah." Mizumachi agreed, the point of his chin digging on his shoulder as he spoke. "But you know, the next season isn't gonna be the same as this one, is it? So stop being an idiot and accept already. Kobanzame-senpai is also looking for you, you know. He told me he was worried you'd go off and never come back because he decided you'd be the next captain!" He laughed, his body shaking.

The sky was clearer now, and although the sun wasn't visible yet, it felt like it had already been there for a long time.

"Then I will." Kakei smiled against the cloth of the other's uniform.

"And I told you before didn't I?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm gonna make sure we're going up to the sky. No, not only me, _**both of us**_. We still have one more year to do it. We'll show Kobanzame-senpai what we can do as a team, so he'd be so proud of us, _na_, Kakei?"

"We def –" He was about to answer when the door suddenly burst open, followed by a high-pitched scream of surprise. He two of them jumped apart, taken aback.

"Ah! Kakei-kun, there you are I just want to say you're going to be one of the best captains of this school's football – _**what are you two doing?!**_ Mizumachi-kun! Put on some pants! You're not in the swimming pool!" It was their former captain, red on the face and obviously very tired from running around, probably looking for him.

"But Kobanzame-senpai, I was just trying to cheer him up –" Mizumachi wailed.

"Just put some pants on!"

And Kakei laughed.

* * *

**ENDE**

* * *

**A/N:** There you go. Written during my free time. Hope you enjoyed reading! Feedbacks are greatly appreciated:)


	2. Story 02: Onward to New Heights

**TITLE:** Up There is a Blue Sky

**PART:** Story Two of Eleven

**AUTHOR:** Simply Kim

**WORD COUNT: **2,974

**CHARACTERS:**Takami Ichirou. Sakuraba Haruto. Shin Seijurou. Unnamed OC. Mentions of the Ojou White Knights and Kobayakawa Sena.

**PAIRING/S:**Takami x Sakuraba. Mentions of Shin Sena.

**GENRE:** Light Shounen-ai/Alternate Universe/Angst/Drama/ (A bit of) Humour

**DISCLAIMER/S:** never knew anything about American Football until recently, so no, I don't own Eyeshield 21. Just this story. ;

**NOTE#1:** **Blah **or _**Blah **_is for emphasis. _**/Blah/**_is for conversations over the phone or flashbacks (if any). _/Blah/_ is for the conscience or whatever inner voice there is talking. _Blah _is for thoughts or random Japanese words.

**BACKGROUND MUSIC:**

1. Angela - Gravitation

2. Abingdon Boys School – Innocent Sorrow

3. Kirito – Period

4. Blood – Mebious Loop

5. Lifehouse – Everything

6. Lifehouse – Simon

* * *

**UP THERE IS A BLUE SKY**

_**Story Two: Onward to New Heights**_

* * *

Was here any reason to doubt his abilities? 

Not anymore.

Was there going to be any reason to doubt his abilities during the next season?

Yes.

_Definitely_.

Sakuraba Haruto sighed as he towelled himself. He was sweating profusely now that practice was over. He had been catching ball after ball, wishing to the gods he could catch them forever. There was no way he was backing down when he found his true calling.

But next season was going to be different for him.

_Takami-san…Help me…_

"You shouldn't be practicing."

Startled, he looked up. A wan smile forming on his face upon recognition. "Yo, Shin." He greeted him casually.

"You shouldn't be practicing." Shin Seijurou repeated, sitting beside him and grabbing one of the water bottles laid out nearby. "You're exhausted."

"I shouldn't, should I? Practicing, I mean." Sakuraba sighed, folding his towel neatly and setting it on his partially opened gym bag. "It's been hard for me since the new quarterback isn't tall enough for the pass. He doesn't even have much arm power. It's difficult to gauge where the ball is going, so all I've been doing is scramble."

Shin stared at him as if he just grew another head. "You're not making sense."

The pop idol (Jari Pro decided to take him back in his own terms) sighed and shook his head, gesturing to his shirt literally dripping with sweat. "I'm exhausted." He declared, frowning. "See?"

The team's current captain tilted his head back and stared at him even more strangely. "I can see that." He allowed, blinking twice before grabbing a fresh towel from the rack and placing it on Sakuraba's head. "That's why I'm saying you're not making sense."

The blonde gave him a level gaze and took off his team shirt, pulling the protector over his head and finally, his undershirt. "Enlighten me." He retorted. Half naked, he started wiping the sweat dripping down and beading from the pores of his skin, wincing as he mistakenly touched the smarting area of his side where he collided with Shin earlier on. "Ow."

"Stop catching the ball." Shin fired back, raising his brows in supplication.

"I'm a wide receiver, in case you've forgotten, Oh-Great-Captain." Sakuraba raised his own brows in response.

"I know."

"That means my job is to catch balls."

"I know."

"…"

"…"

Sakuraba pressed his fingers against his temples and sighed. He looked at him now, eyes pleading. "Shin, just… tell me what I should do, alright? I'm not good with mind games and tactics and all that. Takami-san took care of that last –"

"You should just throw if you can't catch."

"What?! I'm not gonna be quarterback – we're gonna die out there! In a real game!" Sakuraba burst out in shock. It was probably the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard all his life. He couldn't even aim properly!

There was a moment of silence as he waited for Shin to say something. He believed he would be a big help in this problem he was having. After all, the fact that Takami chose him was enough to convince –

"Then I'll get that freshman off the team."

_Or maybe not._

**OxxxOxxxO**

"Ah, so depressing."

It was only a couple of weeks more before his graduation, something he had always been looking forward to ever since he started high school. He had always been looking forward to university and the freedom it offered.

But that was before his last two years on the high school football team.

He sighed and adjusted his glasses, staring absently at the open door of his locker. He could hear the noise outside and knew that the freshmen were being tested on their abilities. They were already preparing for the first season of the next school year.

A small smile stole into his overcast features as he shook his head. No doubt, the new captain, Shin, would be drilling football knowledge into everyone's brains. He would be relentless, and would probably bully the others into putting more effort on practicing.

Of course he wouldn't say anything. Most likely, he'll show them. And that was even worse. After all, no one ever wanted to be around an annoyed Shin while he was training. His eyes were intense and scary, something that would goad them to doing the same. A small sound of amusement escaped from his lips.

Typical Shin.

Even if he was like that, he was pretty effective. That was why he chose him. But since he was friends with Sakuraba, it was…

_Sakuraba_.

He immediately sobered up and reached out, grabbing a worn football, that single remembrance of the days they practiced together. He enjoyed his very last season because of him.

Fate was cruel, he thought. After more than six years searching for that one person to complement his abilities, he had to let go in the worst possible way.

He was graduating, never to come back and play for the high school team again… never to team up with Sakuraba Haruto again. After all, he wasn't sure if the boy was going to go to the same University. For all he knew, he would be working for Jari Pro after his own graduation.

Solemnly, he toyed with the ball, tossing from one hand to another. It was fun hanging around with him while thinking up plays together. It was unfair that it only lasted a few months. Sighing for the umpteenth time, he shook his head and sat down on the long bench, placing the ball on his lap and staring at it fondly.

Two weeks and he was graduating.

Two short weeks…

"Takami-san?" Startled, Takami snapped out of his reverie and looked up, his legs parting as he got up halfway, a conditioned response. The ball fell on the floor, making a dull thudding noise as his eyes widened slightly when he realised who it was.

Just the person he was thinking of.

Slowly, he relaxed and sat down again, chuckling. "You surprised me, Sakuraba-kun." He grinned before bending and picking up the fallen football.

Sakuraba flushed in embarrassment. "Ah, sorry, Takami-san." Gently, he closed the locker room door, leaning against it as he debated inwardly on what he should do. The silence stretched, and soon, gave way to awkwardness. "Um…" He started, finally, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. "Are you here to collect your things?"

Takami was toying with the ball again, now squeezing alternately. He looked up and smiled ruefully. "Yes." Nodding, he resumed staring at the contents of his locker. "I was just thinking."

"Thinking?" Intrigued, Sakuraba moved forward and sat down beside him, his eyes too, now glued at the open locker. "About football?"

Takami was somewhat surprised that the other sat down beside him on his own accord. Before, there was still distance between them, and if not invited, he wouldn't even be caught sitting this close.

Maybe, without them realising it, they had become closer.

"That too." He allowed, tilting his head toward the younger boy's direction. "But mostly about the future."

"Hmm…" Sakuraba mused. "Must be pretty deep."

"Kind of." Takami laughed, adjusting his glasses. "I was thinking of what would become of me after graduation." He turned towards him and raised his brows upon finding he was staring back inquisitively.

"Why?"

The bespectacled boy blinked in astonishment. "I'm entering university… after that; I'm going to be a part of the workforce. Of course I'm a bit worried."

Now it was Sakuraba's turn to blink. "Well, I know that, Takami-san, but I was thinking why you are even troubled about something like that. I mean, sure, it's worrisome, but it's going to be fun too, right? After all, you're at the top of your class and –"

"I was thinking on whether or not I should join the football team there."

Silence.

"So it _**is**_ about football." Sakuraba asked, baffled. "Why not?"

Takami sighed. Again. Adjusting his glasses, he smiled weakly. "I don't think I'm fit to be a member of the university's football team." He could feel another question coming and immediately elaborated. "I have an injury that hampers my movement and my vision isn't exactly good. I'm not as strong and focused as Shin."

"Nobody's as strong and focused as Shin."

He chuckled. "Well, yes, but I'm sure you understand where I'm coming from, Sakuraba-kun."

Takami didn't know if Shin was rubbing off on Sakuraba or he just looked that way when mulling over things. The younger boy blinked at him. Twice. And then leant forward earnestly, features a picture of concentration and need for enlightenment.

He looked like Shin when faced with a digital camera... or a GPS… or a remote control for the team's _**eighth**_ television set (All of which he broke – seven previous sets. By himself).

"Takami-san…" Sakuraba started. "You should be a part of that team."

"Even with the rest of the 'Golden Generation' there to mock me?" He raised his brows in question. "Even if I get benched during my entire first year of playing?"

Sakuraba nodded.

It seemed the former quarterback developed a penchant for sighing these days. He sighed. Once again. And frankly, he lost count on how many times he did inside the locker room alone. "Why?"

"Because you're good at what you do. You're a great quarterback, Takami-san. You shouldn't quit so easily." Came the quiet response. "If I quit before, I may not have improved this much. We would never have become a duo on the field. Our times spent together are some of the happy memories I have of high school."

Takami considered those words, the tone they were delivered in piercing through his heart. There was a lonely quality in it, as well as helplessness. With a fond smile, he let go of the ball and let it fall to the floor.

Quietly, he reached out and laid a warm hand on the other boy's head, his skin prickling at the familiar feel of those soft waves of sun-kissed hair.

"I'll think about it." He finally acknowledged. "But…"

"Takami-san, you should really consider –"

Takami chuckled, standing up and pulling a cleanly folded football team shirt from his opened locker. "But let me remind you, Sakuraba-kun… before you say cool things like that, try looking a little decent first." He said with a teasing smile, handing it to him.

Sakuraba stared at the shirt, confused. However, when his elbow accidentally touched his aching side, he remembered the reason why he went into the locker room in the middle of afternoon practice.

"You should have told me that earlier, Takami-san!" He sputtered, flushed and very much mortified.

He needed to get a new shirt.

He was half-naked.

**OxxxOxxxO**

Sakuraba panted, plopping down on the field in exhaustion. Nearby, his worried underclassman hovered, offering him a towel – which he accepted gratefully.

"Are you alright, Sakuraba-senpai?" The boy fidgeted, brows knitted with both guilt and anxiety. "I'm sorry…"

Startled, he gazed at him, raising his brow in question. "Why are you saying sorry? You didn't do anything wrong."

"Well, senpai, you see, you're making this… suffering expression whenever we're practicing… so I know I'm the reason why… I'm really sorry…" Came the shaky response, followed by a sniffle.

"That's not good, Sakuraba-kun, making your _kouhai _cry."

Takami smiled down at both of them, and at that moment, the past flashed back all at once, making him realise it was now his turn to suffer – like how this _senpai_ did – when he felt inadequate and useless.

A pang of guilt tugged at his heart.

He _**was**_ being unfair.

Looking at them now, looming over him… one worried and the other reproachful, he realised he had been looking at everything in a very negative angle.

They were different people, with different habits, and different ways of expressing themselves.

The younger boy was a nervous kid, someone who lacked self-confidence, just as he himself was like before. He wasn't tall, and he was a very mediocre player, but his hands were fast, so his throws, although not powerful, was almost like lightning. Sakuraba had to admit that if it was not for his affinity on following Shin and Sena's running during their small contests on their free days, he would never have followed the movement of that zipping ball.

Takami Ichirou, on the other hand, used his height and tactics to his advantage. He filled everything he was lacking with his other strengths so as just not to fall far back against his own team mates. He was tall and his throws had power. Each time he caught the ball, his hands stung because it spun. He could throw passes only he and very few other people could catch

However, when he thought about it, these two had something in common as well.

They both needed him.

No matter how insignificant he was compared to someone as capable as Shin, these two still needed him.

Taking a deep breath, he struggled to get up, and to his amusement, the other two took each of his arms to help him, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Or maybe they just liked him better than they liked the other members of the team, which was why they seemed to be so comfortable with it.

Whatever the reason was, it didn't matter.

"Thanks." He smiled reassuringly at the younger boy. "I'm just tired, is all. No need to worry…"

"But it's my fault –"

"Not really. Actually, it's kind of mine." Sakuraba responded good-naturedly, fluffing his hair in an effort to console him. "I'm still adjusting to your passes. Soon, we'll be a great team, I swear. So let's both work hard, okay?"

"Yes, Sakuraba-san!" The boy's eyes lit up and he nodded enthusiastically. "See you tomorrow then!" And he went off, happier than all those days they interacted before. Seeing something like that made his heart feel lighter… as if a heavy burden was lifted from his shoulders.

_No matter what they say, our team is strong._ He mused, excitement thrumming in his veins as his eyes scanned the scattered members packing up after a long afternoon. _We are strong._

"Somehow, I'm jealous."

Startled, he turned to the one left, still standing, with him amidst the chaos of post-practice vigour. The clanging of protectors and screeching of the ball bins were loud and they pierced through his ears, but for some reason, Sakuraba could hear Takami clearly.

Perfectly.

"Jealous?"

Takami smiled down at him, squeezing his arm that he didn't relinquish. It was warm, and imprint of its finger seeped deep into his aching muscles, down to his trembling bones. It didn't seem so, but Sakuraba was sure that if that supporting hand wasn't there, he would keel over.

"Yes. Jealous." He repeated, eyes straying to the vast horizon the wide field provided. "It's going to be a good season for all of you here."

"You're going to have one too, Takami-san." Sakuraba grinned, his eyes following his gaze.

The sky was a pale shade of purple now.

Night was approaching.

**OxxxOxxxO**

_Am I really going to have a good school year ahead?_

"It would be nice to have this kind of sky forever, don't you think so?" Takami mused. "Recently, I've been wishing time would stop so I could stare up at this same horizon as long as I live."

There were a few moments of silence before Sakuraba responded.

"Wouldn't that be boring, Takami-san?"

At that, his insides felt like they were being scorched. "Boring?" He repeated quietly, tearing his eyes away from the gradually darkening sky and focusing on the familiar dimly lit planes of the younger one's smiling face.

"Yeah." Sakuraba's eyes softened. "If we all stay like this forever, then there would be nothing more to look forward to now, right?"

Takami was stumped.

Was this really the same Sakuraba Haruto who cried his snot away just months ago? Was this the same Sakuraba who had once shorn off his hair and started growing a goatee just to prove he could be just as much a man as they all were? Was this the same Sakuraba who needed his guidance so much, he spent his entire free time following him around like an overgrown puppy?

A huge bubble of mirth started rising from his throat, and soon enough, he was snickering. This wasn't that Sakuraba at all. This was someone who had grown so much that he, his pseudo-mentor can't keep up.

"What?" Came the defensive reply. "What's so amusing, Takami-san?"

He was Sakuraba but he wasn't.

And this kind of contrast, this kind of progress, was something he would definitely be looking forward to tracking.

"You know what, Sakuraba-kun, you're right." He murmured finally, when his laughter subsided. Taking a deep breath, he turned back to the darkened heavens, now seemingly decorated by lights that had just been turned on, illuminating the football field.

"I am?"

He nodded, eyes twinkling behind his glasses. "It wouldn't be exciting, would it?" The hand that held Sakuraba's arm slid down until it grasped the latter's warm hand completely. Then he moved, facing him fully and holding up their clasped hands.

He could see his cheeks redden, but he didn't try freeing himself. Instead, Sakuraba nodded silently and linked his fingers with his, something that made butterflies dance in his stomach in answer.

"Then I won't wish it anymore." He allowed, smiling. "But I'm looking forward to seeing you at the university after you graduate."

"I plan on going anyway." Sakuraba grinned back. "Then we'll be the _**perfect**_ team again. We'll be unbeatable!"

"I'll train, just like you do… no, even more."

"As much as Shin?"

At that, Takami let go of his hand and whacked him playfully on the back of his head.

"Don't push it."

* * *

**ENDE**

* * *

_**A/N:**__ Ah, I'm so in love with these two :) Hope you enjoyed this. Feedbacks are greatly appreciated! _


	3. Story 03 Part A: Caprice

**TITLE:** Up There is a Blue Sky

**PART:** Story Three A of Eleven

**AUTHOR:** Simply Kim

**WORD COUNT: **2,545

**CHARACTERS:**Takakura Gen. Hiruma Yoichi. Mentions of Kurita Ryoukan, Anezaki Mamori and the rest of the Deimon Devilbats

**PAIRING/S:**Musashi x Hiruma

**GENRE:** Alternate Universe/Angst/Drama/ (A bit of) Humour

**DISCLAIMER/S:** Never knew anything about American Football until recently, so no, I don't own Eyeshield 21. Just this story. ;

**NOTE#1:** **Blah **or _**Blah **_is for emphasis. _**/Blah/**_is for conversations over the phone or flashbacks (if any). _/Blah/_ is for the conscience or whatever inner voice there is talking. _Blah _is for thoughts or random Japanese words.

**BACKGROUND MUSIC:**

1. Buck-Tick – Passion

2. Buck-Tick – Gensou no Hana

3. MUCC – Libra

4. Lifehouse – Everything

* * *

**UP THERE IS A BLUE SKY**

_**Story Three Part A: Caprice To Want**_

* * *

"What are you doing here, fucking old man?"

Takakura Gen pivoted slowly, crossing his arms across his chest and finally leaning against the wall. His eyes remained thoughtful, and for a couple of moments, he blinked, lashes sweeping against skin until his gaze turned inward. It was as if he was examining himself, trying to gouge out the last vestiges of his intentions, weighing the impact of the words he might blurt out…

"If you're not gonna say anything, get out."

He stared at the pale figure sitting on the pristine sheets of the hospital bed. Upper limbs remaining immobile, legs stretched out under the blankets, shivering slightly as cold air blew out from the room's air conditioning unit.

"Musashi."

He finally capitulated and sighed, voice cracking slightly as if his throat was sore. "You're cold." He said softly. "Hiruma."

Hiruma Yoichi snorted, eyes still staring at the knob of the air conditioning unit. "Who fucking wouldn't? That thing's on high."

Normally, he would've gestured with his hands, pointing at the offending machinery, and possibly standing up and stalking towards it – maybe even shooting it until it exploded…

But there wasn't anything normal about any of this.

Musashi closed his eyes and turned back to the open window, eyes scanning the vast green grounds of the private hospital, watching as people in white scurried about, some with those funny hats and others with stethoscopes hanging around their necks… and some in pinstriped hospital gowns sitting on wheelchairs, watching the world go by.

"I should be out there with the others." He said solemnly.

"Then why aren't you?" came the snippy response. "You're not chained to this place."

"I know." He started as the wind blew. Silently, he admired the scattering of cherry blossom petals dancing with it. He really should be out there with the others, should be there with Kurita, taking his enrolment papers, and helping with football team recruitment… or at least, hammering away with the rest of the workers in their construction company.

But he was here.

"Then go fuck off."

But he was here.

"I can't." He responded quietly. His hands reached down and gripped the window sill, leaning forward on tiptoes, gazing at the bushes directly below him. He rocked on his heels slowly until his vision blurred a bit from dizziness. "I really can't."

After a few moments, he stopped, settling back solidly on his feet.

Musashi could feel a pair of eyes boring holes at the back of his head. No doubt Hiruma was staring at him as if he was the most idiotic person in the world. The silence was thick, but it wasn't cloying.

Maybe, his presence wasn't as unwelcome as he thought.

"Hiruma." He murmured. "Don't you want to get away from this place – even for just a short while?" With a small smile, he turned around, slipping his hands into his pockets and raising his brows in supplication.

Hiruma sighed, tossing back his head, weary. "Ah, believe me, I tried. But they caught me easily. You have no idea how tight I'm being guarded here. Fucking dad's orders." He grated out in irritation. "Only made it as far as the second floor. I was chained to the bed three days ago."

Musashi chuckled, shaking his head. "Have you ever thought about asking for permission?"

The former quarterback glared at him through his blond bangs. "I do_**not**_ ask for permission. I slink around and crawl like a –"

"Like a terrorist, I know, I know." With purposeful steps, Musashi moved forward and circled until he was at the left side of the bed. With a mischievous grin, he stooped down and gripped the edges of the blankets covering Hiruma's legs. With a satisfied flourish, he pulled them away almost violently, then letting go, allowing them to fall down the floor heavily. "Since _**you**_ can't, oh I'm sorry, **won't** ask permission… _**I**_ will."

With a small sound of scandalised shock, Hiruma struggled to scoot away.

All to no avail.

"What the fuck –!!!" Hiruma cried out almost helplessly, looking small and insignificant against the broad, looming figure of the man so intent on pulling him up.

Musashi's mirth knew no bounds, but he kept it locked inside. It wouldn't do well to let his laughter be heard, lest the other took it negatively as always and discard all warnings just to pound him or shoot him with a gun. Who knows how those things materialise anyway – maybe Hiruma was hiding something under he gown he was wearing.

"Let go, fucking geezer!"

"It's not good for you to stay indoors when the weather is perfect outside."

_He's protesting instead. _He thought, relieved. Now there was no reason to be wary. He slid his left forearm under Hiruma's knees and the right under his bony back. _He's not carrying ammo. _

For the first time since their pre-Christmas Bowl match with Hakushuu, he was thankful Hiruma couldn't use his right arm. He was thankful it was bandaged and against a splint. His left arm wasn't a problem. As far as pounding was concerned, it was weak.

"I'm going to fucking kill you!"

_If it's any other day, I'd be dead by now. _Snickering, Musashi took a deep breath, and with all the strength he could muster lifted him off the bed. He ignored the cursing and the feeble attempt to unhand him.

"Fuck! Let go of me, dammit, or I swear I'll kill you!"

"No can do." He retorted good-naturedly. "Stop struggling or I might accidentally drop you, princess."

"_**Princess**_ – **what the fuck?!** Put me down, goddammit!"

"Well it's either this or you'll sit on my shoulders like a kid, which one do you prefer?" The steady stream of colourful expletives reverberated in his ears, but it didn't dampen his resolve. "I even look the part." He grinned teasingly as he bent his knees and pushed the button that opened the door with his left shoulder. As the nearly crowded hallway was revealed, he nodded in satisfaction, noting the incredulous looks cast them.

A nurse, obviously horrified, scurried over to where he stood. "He's not supposed to go out without permission, sir!" She said worriedly. Her voice was on the soft side, but he heard her clearly even with all of Hiruma's remonstrating.

"Oi, fucking nurse, tell this asshole to put me back inside!"

"S-sir?" She fidgeted uncomfortably, her eyes were bordering on being terrified. "He should…"

Musashi gazed down at her, nodding. "I know, miss." He acknowledged as gently as he could. "We're just going out… just on the grounds."

"No we're not! We're staying right here!" Hiruma yelled by his ear, still struggling.

"Oh!" The nurse breathed in relief. It seemed she had caught on how to tune out unnecessary noise as well. "You need written permission for that though."

"I said put me down, fucking old man! I'm staying –!"

"I know. Could you possibly direct me to where I should get it?" He smiled, eyes softening.

"It's down the lobby." She smiled back, her cheeks tinted red. "I'll help you then sir! Do you need a wheelchair? We have them there too."

Musashi shook his head, eyes sparkling with humour. "Thank you very much, but there's no need for a wheelchair." His grin broadened. "Oh, I do need a sling. A sturdy one. Princess here mustn't aggravate his arm further."

"_**I'm not a princess, you fucktard!**_"

He trailed after her, chuckling as he received a displeased stinging slap at the back of his head.

"Yes, yes, you're a terrorist, I know, I know..."

**OxxxOxxxO**

It took a more than a few minutes to get out of the building. Hiruma was squirming as the head nurse, a portly old lady, tried her best to slip his injured arm into a sling, and then slip the straps into position, immovable, around his neck.

And then there was the issue of him screaming bloody murder for everyone to hear.

So all in all, he had made a spectacle –

But it wasn't as if Musashi was not immune to it.

"Stop struggling, I said." He chastised sternly. "I'm doing all the work here… or do you really want me to get you a wheelchair?"

That shut him up.

For a while.

Sighing inwardly in relief, he continued walking until he got to his desired spot under the huge blooming cherry blossom tree. A secluded spot by the hospital's prayer room. This was ironic, since the devil himself was in his arms, glaring daggers as he slowly knelt, finally settling down.

With careful movements, he twisted his body so he could fully sat down, crossing his legs, and scooting backwards until his lower back hit the trunk of the tree. Then he cautiously lodged Hiruma on his lap, making sure that he was leaning against him comfortably, back straight to avoid aggravating the healing joint of his shoulder.

"When my arm is better, I will kill you."

"I know how to hide."

"I'll find you – hunt you down."

"Then I will dodge."

"I have perfect aim."

"All these years, I'm still here, alive."

"I'll make sure this time, fucking geezer."

Musashi wrapped his arms more snugly around him, resting his chin on his left shoulder. "Is it really so bad?" He murmured, closing his eyes wearily. It was pretty tiring wrestling with him since they were in the suite.

There was an uncomfortable pause before Hiruma let go of a huge pent up breath. He could feel him sagging in his arms, a great feat since he wasn't one to do so, especially in a time like this. Musashi knew why he was so against people helping him move about.

He hated feeling helpless.

Hiruma was someone who was independent, decisive and scheming. He used all of his talent, all his efforts, to get everything he ever wanted. He had learned how to compensate for his weaknesses, such that people who were afraid of him, rarely ever glimpse them – much less notice.

But he was different.

Musashi viewed him as someone who was the same as everyone else, albeit more steadfast on his opinions and on his theories. Once he made them, put them into words, he never went back and pushes forward to make them reality and prove them right.

It was as if he was constantly in battle. He didn't want to lose because he wanted to make someone of himself. He blackmailed people because he knew that surviving alone, contrary to what he kept on babbling about, was something he wouldn't be able to do. He blackmailed people because he hated _**asking**_ for help – he hated asking for anything.

He hated asking because it showed that he was lacking and it was something he didn't – couldn't – forgive himself to do. When it started sinking in that he was lacking, he could see panic in his eyes… the hopelessness… the desperation. And Musashi knew, at that precise moment, that everything Hiruma had built his foundations on had just crumbled.

Musashi knew Hiruma's humanity.

He may not feel privileged to see it, but there was a small measure of warmth knowing he was probably the only one who knew.

He was the only one who could do something about it so others wouldn't see.

"You're too calm about this."

_It's a direct contrast to how Kurita views him._ Musashi chuckled quietly and squeezed tighter. "I'm always calm." He murmured.

"Screwing together doesn't make you responsible for me, fucking geezer." Hiruma snapped. "Don't just decide what I want or don't want to do."

A thin tendril of irritation prodded his heart until it stung. It sounded so banal, the way he described their present state of affairs.

"I should be saying the same thing, fucking demon." He retorted lightly, feeling Hiruma's body stiffening as if ready to pounce on one small misstep on Musashi's part. "Stop twisting things. And having a relationship with you doesn't have anything to do with it."

It wasn't as if it was pure physical connection all the time… Or maybe he was the only one who thought it wasn't. However, when he thought about it, no matter how many times Hiruma denied the fact that someone like him, who didn't like his private space invaded, kept on snuggling in his arms until sleep came, it's still there.

For one, it wasn't comfortable, letting drying fluids dry on you; just to keep yourself connected through the touch of each other's skin… and it was also normally irritating being huddled in a small amount of space when the bed is twice larger than the width of your bodies combined. And yet, Hiruma clung to him.

He closed his eyes briefly and steeled himself not to divulge his less than pleasant protest. "I'm not trying to override your wishes, Hiruma." He started softly. "I just want to. I like helping you."

"What am I, your fucking charity case?" After a few moments, Hiruma's body went limp once again. "That's just it, isn't it? I don't need your pity, dammit."

"It's not pity." He assured him, patting him lightly on the side.

He didn't pity him.

Whom he pitied was himself.

A bitter chuckle reverberated inside him, unspoken, but filled the holes in him as air would. Like he always thought, he was _**probably**_ the only one to know Hiruma's humanity. But in that word too, lay the reality. That perhaps, someone _**had**_ seen it as well. If that was the case, he knew exactly whom it was that cut through the web he had spun since he started hanging out with him and Kurita.

Anezaki Mamori.

She was guileless, naïve and charming. Everything he was not and more. She tended his wounds, practiced with him, went over things with him, and quarrelled with him in that span of more than a year he worked in the company.

And since Hiruma was human, he knew that like others close to her, he saw her as someone men should treasure, a prized gem if you may. Something he didn't want anyone to tarnish, stepped before her to protect her from Agon many times, blackmailed Yamaoka and Satake so they wouldn't touch her with their lecherous hands.

Since Hiruma was human, he knew she wouldn't be happy together with him in the long run, seeing that he was a worldly boy taking a step toward becoming a man. He had needs and he felt that she wasn't someone he should lay his hands on and dirty for his enjoyment. In Hiruma's own words, she 'must stay pure until she finds the fucking bastard who wouldn't ruin her'.

With that, unspoken need won, and he turned to him… then this uncanny liaison started.

Musashi never thought of himself as a substitute. He thought of himself as the one who could save Hiruma from himself. He thought of himself as his saviour, his messiah, someone whom he would never feel complete without.

And he was content.

"Then what is it?"

Musashi shook his head and closed his eyes once again, a small smile playing on his lips as he buried his chin deeper into the juncture of Hiruma's neck and shoulder, inhaling deeply the scent that was uniquely his.

"It's a secret."

* * *

**TSUZUKU**

* * *

_**A/N: **Part B is halfway done. Hope you enjoyed reading! Feedbacks are greatly appreciated!_


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